


Sugar and Spice

by Guardian



Category: Cable and Deadpool, Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Heartwarming Cannibalism, M/M, Manly Men Doing Manly Things, Minor Violence, Time Travel, including protecting and entertaining a tiny child, they are both the mom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:23:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guardian/pseuds/Guardian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>300 years ago, Nate took Hope into the future to protect her and left Wade behind.</p><p>He never expected to see Wade 300 years in the future.</p><p>He definitely didn't expect to learn that his old friend had been hired to kill Hope.</p><p>But he should've known it would end with Wade giving Hope piggy-back rides instead. Seriously, Nate, come on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Originally posted on LJ in 2012)
> 
> This is based off the _Cable & Deadpool_ comic series, and then set during the _Cable_ comics following that. This takes place sometime around Cable #12, in that Hope has proven that she's got survival skills, but avoiding the transition into the Stryfe storyline.
> 
> If you have no idea what this means, basically Nate and Wade had a very close relationship during their comic run together. They literally called it a marriage and it ended in "divorce" and they parted ways. The last time they saw each other was when Nate had baby Hope in his protection in Alaska and called Wade in to help keep her safe... and bring diapers. :') That brief interlude ended with Wade saving them against a sentinel... but then Nate told Wade he couldn't come with them. Nate traveled into the future to find a place where he could raise Hope until it was safe for her to return to the present. Hope was the first mutant born since M-Day (when Scarlet Witch said "No more mutants" and depowered like 90% of the mutants in existence) and therefore anti-mutant factions wanted to kill her, while mutantkind generally sees her as a savior. In the comics, Nate and Hope are running from Bishop, a man who is dead set on killing Hope and can follow them into the future. Most of the time, it's hard for Nate to even find food or water, and Hope has to learn survival skills and how to fight while she's still a kid. Basically, Hope grows up thinking that 'rats' are a basic food group and never really has a childhood. In this fanfiction series, I thought it'd be nice if Wade really did come along to help Nate protect her and raise her. Maybe things could've been a little easier for them. So that's where we begin.

Nathan Summers had never been so physically exhausted in his life. A few days had passed since he'd had so much as an hour of sleep. It felt like longer. He had spent years on the run already. Years spent jumping through time itself, decades and centuries into the future, all to keep one girl – Hope Summers, the potential savior of mutantkind – safe.

This was just one more night when he could not afford to sleep. Bishop was sure to be on their tails, and in this wasteland there was nowhere to hide. But Hope was too tired to keep moving. Nathan was forced to build camp – or at least a fire to cook a few skinny rats and to keep his charge warm.

Hope was curled up nearby, sleeping. Her red hair reflected the flickering light of the campfire and seemed to glow like red-hot embers. At times he wondered how her power would manifest, but Nate didn't allow himself to dwell on the possibilities. Whatever would be, would be. In the meantime, he could only focus on keeping her safe another day, until she was old enough to go home. If he could even fix the time mechanism on his arm so they _could_ go home. But that was something else to worry about later. 

Survival was a constant priority. The only priority. A while back, they’d found a safe home. Hope had found a _mother_. It could have easily been a place that Nate would have stayed forever. But that... ended. That time was over now. There was no safety anymore. Hope had to start learning how to fight, how to protect herself, if anything should happen to him. Nathan was teaching her how to use her senses, her skills, and her environment to her advantage. Hope picked up on all of it quickly, but she still had a lot to learn. If she were any older, she probably wouldn't be sound asleep, completely unaware that even now they were being hunted.

Nathan cocked his gun and pointed it into the darkness, his left eye flashing in warning.

"I know you're there."

There was a tense second, a tiny fraction of doubt in which Nate began to calculate the best way to evacuate Hope from the area. Then he heard gravel shift under the weight of someone's feet and saw a figure approaching with their hands raised in surrender.

"Geez, you telepathic again, Nate? I was even trying to be sneaky. You must've read my yellow boxes. That’s cheating. I like it."

"Wilson?" A small shiver of relief tingled at his spine. There was no mistaking that gravely Demi-Moore voice, and the nonsense that even he couldn't understand. But Nathan didn't lower his gun as his old friend walked out of the darkness and into the flickering light.

"You sound surprised," Wade said, standing with his hands on his hips. "Expecting somebody else? Another ex-something-something? Should I be offended?"

"Not anyone in particular," Nathan answered, although that wasn’t entirely true. "But I didn't expect to see _you_."

"Ow," Wade clasped a hand over his chest. "That hurts me, Nate. Seriously, that's shrapnel right into the meaty part of my heart. I know I'm no buxom blonde, but I always thought we were buddies. Airquotes, ‘Special friends,’ even,” he added, curling his fingers in the air with some meaning that apparently amused him and escaped Nate completely, as it was with most of the things that came out of Wade’s mouth. Back in the day, nobody could understand how Nate put up with him, but Nate actually enjoyed listening to Wade talk. He’d learned to filter him out ages ago.

"What I mean to say, Wade, is that we're hundreds of years into the future. Even you should be dead by now." It made Nate a little worried, wondering how much sleep he'd lost, or if he were dreaming of Wilson's ghost.

"Unless, of course, you aren't the only one with a fancy time machine." Wade tapped a mechanism attached to his belt. "You really should've picked anywhere else to hide. Playboy mansion would’ve been my first choice. The whole Post-Apocalyptic Future thing has been played to death. I mean...” he looked around pointedly, glancing for a long moment at Hope, who lay close to Nathan, wrapped in firelight. Nathan shifted his gun in silent warning, but Wade’s gaze moved on, observing their fire, and the remnants of their meal. “...Rats for dinner? Geez, Nate,” he visibly shuddered, but kept his voice fairly low in volume, as not to disturb Hope’s sleep. “Let’s go home, buy this poor kid an ice cream and get a nice T-bone steak in ya. Maybe find a nice hotel that has actual, y’know, _beds_. Seriously, has she ever seen one?"

Nathan wasn’t convinced. Worst case scenario, Wilson was a figment of his exhausted imagination. No... worst case scenario, Wade was really there, and it meant bad news. There was no telling with Wade, as unpredictable as he was. Nate respected him enough to know that he was a strong fighter, someone he’d rather have on his side. He didn’t know if their old friendship really meant anything anymore. But Nate could take him down if he had to.

Wade attracted trouble – no, Wade _was_ trouble. Truth be told, Nate still liked him, but if there was the slightest sign that Wade’s presence was going to threaten Hope, Nate wouldn’t hesitate to end him. Death never stuck to Wade anyway, but that didn’t mean that Nate wouldn’t temporarily send him straight to hell.

Wade frowned at Nathan, who still hadn’t lowered his gun, and tilted his head curiously as if he could see tenuous cables breaking in his friend's head, as if their roles were reversed and now Nathan was the crazy one. "Nate? You okay? You look like crap."

Nathan weighed the pros and cons of putting a round into Wade's shoulder. It seemed like a waste of ammo. A shot to the throat might be worth it, though...

"Why didn't ya just pop back to the X-Men? I heard Cyclops has an ucler the size of Big Bertha from worrying about you."

"I can't go back," Nathan said, finally lowering his weapon, but keeping it at the ready. "The mechanism is broken. We can only go forward in time until I find parts to fix it."

Wade grinned maniacally. "Then you should be glad I'm here! Come on, Nate, I can get you and the kid back in two seconds flat. The X-Men have been pulling out all the stops to find you two."

"And they sent _you_ with a time machine?" Nate questioned, skeptical.

Wade scoffed with a soft laugh. "You really think the X-Men would trust _me_ to come into the future and rescue you, much less even use one of their gadgets? And that's even if they _had_ a gadget like this. No, this is state-of-the-art stolen tech from the future. My employers have deep pockets, y’know. Like, deeper than Elijah Wood's crystal blue doe eyes. They paid me twenty mil _upfront_ just to come here."

Nathan’s entire demeanor darkened instantaneously. "And do what, Wade?" Nathan asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nothing that I'd actually do."

"To do _what_ ," Nathan repeated, rising to his feet with his gun trained on Wade once again. The frightening tone of Nate's voice, like distant thunder, was what finally woke Hope. He didn't need Wade to speak – his telepathy was able to skim the answer from the mercenary's mind. Normally Wade’s mind was an incomprehensible jumble to him, but this thought was loud and clear; They’d hired Deadpool to kill Hope. "You accepted their offer?"

"Of course I did!” Wade said, actually sounding offended. “I couldn't let anyone else get this gig."

Hope was curled low to the ground, staring at Wade, uncertain of how to react to the presence of this stranger. "Nathan?"

"Get behind me, Hope," Nathan ordered, and Hope quickly complied, stumbling behind him and clinging to one of his legs. "I thought I knew you, Wilson. I knew you'd do anything for money, but I never thought you'd stoop this low."

"I thought you _did_ know me better than that. I'm hurt, Nate, really hurt that you'd think I'd actually turn on _you_ ," Wade said. This time his voice was devoid of any humor.

"I already have one old friend hunting us down, Wilson. Last I remember, you tend to take the side with the biggest paycheck. So you'd better clarify your intentions quickly, or it'll take your remains a week to congeal back together."

"Nate, they were asking _anyone_ to do the job. They practically had a billboard ad in Times Square." Wade’s tone was so serious for once, it was worrying.

"Who is 'they'?"

"Dunno, really,” Wade shrugged. “All I know is they had a legit time machine and they wanted a bad-ass merc to use it to track you and the kid down. They were the real thing."

"What's a 'bat-ass murk'?" Hope whispered.

"Not now, little one." Nathan kept his focus on Deadpool. "Keep talking, Wade."

"There were guys lined up around the block, Nate. Serious threats. Monsters who wouldn't think twice about putting down a little girl. Even a _street mime_. Of course I had to sign up for the job. I took out any serious competition so I'd be their only choice. Hell, I took out _most_ of the wanna-be mercs on three continents to guarantee that they couldn't pick anyone else. I even had to take out the street mime, and not just on principle; they were gonna hire him before they'd even look at me! Turns out, they really didn't want _me_ to have the job. Jerks. It's like they thought I'd betray them or something. I mean, I _did_ , but it would have been nice for them to have a little misplaced faith in me!"

Nathan laughed – but it was a deep sound that neared relief rather than disbelief, even though he still kept Deadpool's head in his crosshairs. "So you’re saying you went through all that trouble just to find me and warn me?"

"Bingo!" Wade grinned through his mask. "Best part is, I even got paid to do it. Cha-ching."

"You came a long way just to cash a paycheck," Nathan said, almost dismissive and teasing, but he was suddenly aware that the comment hit Wade with an unexpectedly sharp edge. For an instant, Wade’s good humor evaporated, and the atmosphere went tense. Nate normally couldn't read Wade's mind very well, but in that moment, the mercenary's true intentions were as clear to Nathan as if they were his own.

Wade was _afraid_. Truly. Deeply. That alone made Nate concerned. Despite his joking, this had nothing to do with money, or the chance to cause violence, or getting to see Nathan again, or even the possibility of having free reign with a real time machine. Wade had heard about the hit, the resources available to make it happen, and the unseemly types who not only agreed to do it, with pleasure, but who would be damn hard to _stop_ from doing it, and all of that had made him terrified. Terrified because someone wanted to kill a little girl.

He'd taken the job – and suffered grievous injuries from every opponent he had to go through first – purely to save Hope. Not because she was the first mutant born since M-Day, or because she was supposed to be special to human and mutantkind. Wade had gone through so much trouble simply because she was just a _kid_.

Nate holstered his gun, not sure of what else to do or say. 'Thank you' wouldn't begin to convey the depth of his gratitude.

"So, you gonna come back to the present with me?" Wade asked, fidgeting in Nate's silence.

"We're gonna go see the X-Men?" Hope asked, reaching up to tug excitedly at Nathan's sleeve.

"No," Nathan answered.

"Hm." Wade scuffed his boot against the ground, kicking a rock towards the campfire. "Alright, cool." And that settled it.

He walked over to their side of the fire and sat down in the dirt, sprawling out his legs so that the soles of his shoes nearly touched the hot coals. "This reminds me of when I used to be a Muskrat, but with less angry badgers. Unless that doesn't count in this continuity. Taskmaster as a female kind of freaked me out, anyway. But I wish I could've kept those sweet Muskrat merit badges. Oooh, do I smell fire-roasted apocalypse rats? That's my _fav!_ "

"Nay-Nay?" Hope questioned, still clinging to her guardian's leg and torn between trying to catch Nate's attention and watching Wade pick at the bony remains of their dinner.

"Hope... it’s okay. He’s is an old friend of mine, Wade Wilson," Nate said, gently prying her fingers from him and crouching down to her eye level. "Wade, this is Hope."

"Hope _Summers_ ," the little red-head amended, her voice carrying surprising authority for her age.

Wade giggled at how much the little spitfire took after Nathan. "Did she adopt all your other names, too, Priscilla?"

"Priscilla?" Hope repeated.

"Wade says funny things," Nate explained as simply as possible. "You learn to ignore them."

"He _smells_ funny," Hope crinkled her nose.

Nate smiled. "You learn to ignore that, too."

"Hey!" Wade objected, and the two Summers giggled together.

 

x

 

"Are you an X-Man, Mr. Wilson?"

"As I matter-of-fact..."

"No, he's not," Nathan interrupted.

Wade gave Nathan a murderous glare before focusing on Hope again. "Well, they _wish_ I was on their team. I'm always too busy on top-secret missions and saving the world and stuff."

Nathan merely shook his head, amused, while Wade regaled Hope with his version of reality. Parents told fairy tales to their children all the time, Nathan reasoned. He'd just have to have a talk with Hope later about how Wade sometimes saw the world in his own... special way.

Nate had just finished a sweep of the area. After Deadpool's surprise arrival, he had to make sure that no one else had come with him, or been attracted by Wilson's chatter. He found nothing. Apparently the feeling of being hunted had been caused by Deadpool tracking them, because there were no other sentient lifeforms around for miles.

He'd been reluctant to entrust Wade with Hope's safety for all of five minutes before it became apparent to him that Wade was more likely to try to raise Hope himself than ever hurt her. The costumed mercenary was seriously enamored with the girl. Even pushing his telepathy to the limit trying to read Wilson's scrambled mind, all that Nathan could pick up was Wilson's overwhelming desire to impress Hope, and a fascination with the word 'chimichanga'. It seemed like Wade had finally met a prospective audience for his talents.

"Did you ever meet Wolverine?" Hope asked, suppressing a yawn. She was curled against Nate's side despite insisting that she wasn't tired.

"What do you know about Wolverine?" Wade asked, giving her a skeptical look.

"Nathan told me about him," Hope said. "He said he's got claws that shoot out of his knuckles like, _whoosh!_ and his skeleton is made of metal and he can heal from almost anything and he's the coolest X-Man ever."

"First of all, small stuff, the word is _snikt_ , and second of all his healing factor ain't nothing compared to mine! Seriously, I'll prove it to you – hey Nate, be a pal and shoot me in the head?"

"Wade," Nate said, with infinite patience, "unnecessary gunfire will draw attention to us."

"Oh, right." Wade drew a katana from his back and handed it to Nate. "Take off the left hand, then. I've got an uneven number of spare gloves."

"Not in front of her."

"What? I've seen way worse!" Hope objected. "I know how to kill roaches,” she informed Wade, matter-of-factly. In her defense, that would have been a lot more impressive if Wade knew that she was talking about six-foot-tall humanoid mutants.

"Roaches, huh? Did I ever tell ya about the time I had leeches in my ears?"

Wade chattered on through the night until Nate was the only one left reacting to his outlandish stories. Hope had long since fallen asleep against Nate's side, and Wade's volume dwindled so as not to wake her.

"I think you should get some sleep, too," Nathan finally said. "The sun will be up in a few hours, and we need to press on."

"Sleep? I never sleep. I'm jet-lagged from time-traveling. I'm not even tired," Wade babbled.

"Uh-huh." Nathan started mentally counting.

"You know, it's been forever since we've seen each other. Not sure what the official continuity on this is. Are we still divorced? And what's with the kid, anyway? It's always been something with you – Providence, Rumekistan... Always gotta be the savior, the protector, the guardian, the knight-in-shining-techno-organic-armor..."

"It's hard to explain, Wade," Nate said. And he didn't have to explain, because twelve seconds later, Wade was curled up on his side, sound asleep.

x


	2. Chapter 2

Before first light, they started walking.

Wade whistled tunelessly as they traveled. Hope was sitting on his shoulders, bouncing and giggling softly as Wade strutted along. He held onto her ankles, and she held onto the top of his head, enjoying the ride and the fact that she was finally taller than Nathan.

“So what’s on the agenda today?” Wade questioned.

"What’s an agenda?” Hope asked, leaning on Wade’s head.

“It’s an organized list of things that need to be done,” Nate explained.

“Oh! Um, then… we _need_ to find something to eat,” Hope rubbed her belly. “Can that be first on our agenda?”

“Sure can, kiddo!” Wade chirped. “Err, if Nate says it’s okay. We should hit a space-time that has grub besides scrawny sand-rats, though. Just give me a place with _real_ reconstituted meat-paste and tortilla wraps and I’ll make you a burrito that will rock your world. The lower intestine of your world, that is. As the great Parisians say, _¿Dónde está el baño?_ Seriously, though, where’s the bathroom, Nate?”

“I could use a potty break, too,” Hope admitted.

“Potty break!” Wade cheered, lifting Hope over his head and setting her down on the ground. “Er, I’m not seeing any plumbing in this John Martin-esque landscape.”

Hope gave Wade a funny look. “Don’t you know how to go _potty_ , Mr. Wilson?”

“Hope, just go,” Nate told her. The girl nodded and scampered off, climbing over a rough area of rocks until she was out of view.

“… _Really?_ ” Wade flung his hands out dramatically, his eyes comically wide.

“Don’t pretend you’ve never been in a location that was absent of certain luxuries.”

“Of course I have. But the potty is not something I consider a _luxury_ ,” Wade grumbled. “That’s basic needs, right up there with food and porn. How you’ve managed to survive so far is a mystery to me.”

“I’m a soldier,” Nathan stated plainly. “I’m prepared for anything.”

“Yeeeah, but I don’t think Cyclops had this extended camping trip from hell in mind when he said to give Hope a better life. I mean, look at this place.”

Nathan ‘hmm'ed in mock seriousness and deadpanned, “A world without television.”

“Yes! A world without- Hey, was that a _joke_ from you? I’m so proud! But really, can we skip to a better time now? I’m tired of watching the desert wasteland channel.”

“We need to stay here as long as possible,” Nate responded. “Desert wasteland is fine by me. It means there are no people around for miles. We’re safe as long as we’re here, until Bishop catches up again.”

“There’s no people because there’s no _life!_ ” Wade pointed out. “Look around you. There’s not a dot of green for miles. No vegetation. Look at the horizon – you can’t see a thing because the sun is deep-broiling the earth. I think I just made that word up. My merc-senses are telling me we can’t survive here for another day.”

“You’re right, Wade.”

“Damn it, Nate, why won’t you ever _listen_ to m- whaaa? Did you just _agree_ with me?”

“I know we can’t linger in this time much longer,” Nate said. “But we need to keep putting ground behind us, and we need to stay wherever we’re safe for as long as possible.”

“So you’re just killing time?” Wade guessed. “This is how you want her to spend her childhood? She should be watching _Batman_ and eating ice cream. She should be learning how to shoot the eyes out of squirrels, and make homemade stink bombs, and sneaking out of the house at night to drink beer and kiss b-”

“Shh,” Nate clamped a hand over Wade’s mouth and stilled, listening to a distant noise that only sounded like wind over the sand to Wade. Nate finally released the other man, reaching for his guns instead.

“Girls. I was gonna say girls. Wait, I was still talking about _Hope_ , right? Phew. Not that there’s anything wrong if she wants to kiss boys. Kids these days, they do it both ways. That gun’s not for me, is it, Nate?”

“Wade, shut up and find Hope. Whatever happens, protect her and don’t come out unless I give the all clear.”

“Aye, sir,” Wade mock saluted, but darted across the sand, moving low and fast while Nate charged in the other direction. Wilson leapt up the outcrop of rocks with easy grace and a total silence that took Hope by surprise when he tackled her onto the ground, capturing the girl in a tight hug. Fortunately for the both of them, she’d finished her business and had been on her way back when he intercepted her.

“Ow, ow, ow,” Wade whispered as Hope began biting his fingers. “Shhh,” he let go of her, glad that the kid was smart enough to hear him out for a second rather than just start screaming and running. “Someone’s coming.”

Hope’s eyes widened a little, and they laid together in the tight crevice, listening to the wind blowing over the rocks and the sound of something traveling over the sand. As the sound grew closer, they heard the noise of men’s voices, a high whistle, and the distinct clicking sound of guns being loaded. Hope and Wade instantly had the same idea on their minds: spying. They wiggled closer to a gap in the rocks and peered out, able to see a cloud of dust in the air and a strange makeshift caravan of travelers.

The caravan came to a halt, and the dust cloud caught up with them and billowed through the area. Men emerged, wearing faded old cloth that was wound around their heads and arms until they looked like mummies. They all had guns, and they all pointed their guns at Nathan who stood his ground to meet them. Wade grabbed onto Hope again just in time to prevent the girl from running out to save her guardian.

“Keep your head down,” Wade hissed at her between clenched teeth, trying to shield as much of her body with his own as he could, just in case gunfire broke out. No amount of bullets would ever phase him, but one unlucky shot could end this girl’s life. He’d swallow his own gun before he ever let that happen.

They stayed still, listening intently, but their own heartbeats seemed louder than any snippets of conversation they could catch. The men in the caravan kept their guns out, but Wade noted that they seemed more skittish than aggressive, as if expecting Nate to rob them. Nate made plenty of submissive, entreating gestures with his body language, apparently trying to convince them that despite the massive guns he was carrying, he meant them no harm. The caravan likely responded with obligatory expository dialogue and someone saying, “ _We can’t stop here, this is bat country!_ ”

At length, the discussion ended the only way it could – they decided to take Nathan hostage.

“Wade,” Nate called for him, of course, with his hands in the air in the sign of surrender. Goddamn it, Nate.

Wilson grumbled to himself about how much of a wuss Nate was while he scooped Hope into his arms and carried her down to the fiasco.

If he’d been in Nate’s size “e-fucking-normous” combat boots, he would have taken out all those dirty sand pirates, stolen their wagons and their mutated future-camels, and made off with their women. And he would have left them tied naked to a cactus, too, or something classy like that. But noooo. Nate had to stand down, and also tell them, ’ _By the way, my kid and my bff are hiding in those rocks, can they be kidnapped too?_ ’

“They’re not kidnapping us, they’re giving us a lift,” Nate said to Wade with infinite patience.

“Stop reading my yellow boxes, Nate!”

“You’re _talking_ ,” Nate sighed, and forced Wade to get into one of the wagons with Hope. Nate gave an apologetic look to the men, who called themselves ‘Rafters’. “Please forgive my companion; he isn’t well.”

“You ought to keep him on a shorter leash,” one of the leader-types said, and the others laughed.

The men loaded into the wagons again, and took off with a rumble. The mutant camels could move at a good clip, especially with the canvas roofs shaped to catch the wind and help propel themselves faster. Wade and Nate shoved into one side of the wagon, while a few of the mummy-men inspected the guns that Nathan had apparently traded off for safe passage.

The Rafters were travelers, merchants, and family men before they were anything resembling soldiers. Nathan appealed to them by sitting Hope in his lap and telling them tall tales about how he and his daughter had become stranded in the wasteland while trying to find a new place to settle.

The guns and pity got them a trip to the nearest camp. Even then, the ride took all night, and when they arrived, the men basically said ‘good luck’ and abandoned them to fend for themselves.

“Lovely place,” Wade commented, admiring the campfires, the smell of old rat bones being boiled into broth, and the merry (re: pensive, distrustful, and unwashed) faces of the people. It was the same crap they’d just come from, but now with dozens of unwashed strangers. “We could build a little summer cottage here.”

Nate carried Hope to their own little spot, where the light from the fires just barely reached. She woke briefly when they settled onto the ground, but then fell asleep again against Nate’s chest. She was too tired. They all were, and they fit in nicely with these exhausted, desperate people who had been living on sand rats and scorpions for their entire lives.

“Sleep tonight, Nate,” Wade said, crouching on the balls of his feet. He spoke quietly, mindful not to wake Hope. “I’ll keep watch.”

Nate shook his head. “You haven’t fought Bishop before.”

“Bishop shmishop. I’d like to get a piece of that guy. I’ll mop the floor with his butt.”

“Don’t underestimate him, Wade. I haven’t been able to stop him,” Nathan said. “I need to be ready if he attacks.”

“You’ll be useless if you don’t sleep,” Wade said, sounding suspiciously reasonable. “You haven’t slept in days, have you? Any longer and you’ll end up crazy like me. I can at least raise the alarm if he comes. And with all these people around, we’ll know he’s coming. The worst you’ve got to worry about is one of these homeless guys coming over and sticking his foot in your mouth while you’re sleeping. I can totally guard against that.”

Nathan pressed his lips together in a thin line, an expression on his face that was either deep thought or constipation. He leaned over, nearly knocking Wade off-balance when he grabbed him with one arm. “Listen, Wade. I’ve wanted to… to thank you for a while now.”

“There’s no need to thank me,” Wade responded, swallowing hesitantly. “Unless this is the part where you kiss me and hold me gently through the night.”

“We need to talk later,” Nathan said, letting go of Wade.

“Can we talk now?” Wade leaned in, earnest.

“I… I _am_ tired,” Nathan admitted.

“Oh. Right. Go to sleep, big guy. Your silent guardian is here to watch over you.”

Nate had the decency not to laugh. “Wade?”

“Yeah?”

“No maiming anyone.”

“No maiming,” Wade agreed, rising up. He walked away, patrolling a small perimeter around Nate and Hope. Wade unsheathed his katanas, holding both blades while he paced, occasionally twirling the swords through the air.

It either spoke volumes about how tired Nate was, or how much he trusted Wade, that he fell asleep so quickly.

x


	3. Chapter 3

The sun seemed to rise too early, and it had the ground baking again within the first half hour. Wade crouched on the sand in just the right spot so that his long shadow kept the sun off of Nate and Hope while they slept. Bored, he entertained himself by drawing tanks and stick figures in the dust.

The other people in the camp had been up since dawn, extinguishing their fires and packing up their makeshift tents and meager possessions.

A woman approached Wade, and he allowed her to tread so far before he unsheathed one of his katanas, holding it out in silent warning. The woman stopped, but then drew herself up and continued towards him with purpose, extending her hand.

"Sir," she said. "Take this. For your daughter."

Wade stared at what the woman held in her hand – about a fourth of a scrawny rat, and not a fresh one. "Gee, thanks."

The sarcasm was lost on her. "There isn't much to spare, but the children have to eat."

Wade rose to his feet, and took the piece of rat from her, torn between guilt and disgust. This was all there was to eat, and this half-starved woman was forking over a bit of survival. Despite the generosity, the meat was still on its way to 'putrid', especially in this heat.

"Hey, lady? Where do you normally catch these things?" Wade asked.

She snorted softly. "There are none left here. We're traveling south. You should follow us."

"Thanks, maybe in a few," Wade responded. He intended to let Nate sleep as long as possible, and he was pretty sure that going south meant doubling back, which Nathan would probably be against.

That seemed to be the extent of the woman's kindness. She turned and walked away, rejoining her people before they simply left her behind. No one else stopped to ask if they were coming along, they just gathered their things and abandoned the camp as soon as possible.

Wade stared at what was apparently the last passably edible rat in the area. Despite the charity, and despite knowing that Hope and Nathan had probably been living off of worse for years, he simply couldn't feed the thing to either of them. But they had to eat something.

Wade would kill for a cheeseburger right now. Hope had probably never even heard of such a thing in her life, and that realization made him want to weep. His own time mechanism worked just fine. If only he could pop back and pick up some snacks. He’d be back 15 minutes before he left, with Starbucks. Unconsciously, Wade’s hand went to the mechanism attached to his belt, ready to do just that, but he had to stop himself.

If he left, there was no guarantee he’d ever find them again. And Hope couldn’t go home. Not while she was still being hunted.

Well. That was that, then.

Humming to himself, Wade salvaged some dying embers from a nearby campfire and started to rebuild it with whatever was left over in the abandoned camp. Some of the extinguished campfires had metal spits left behind. Wade gathered what he could, then settled down next to his fire with a knife, rolled up his sleeve, and began selecting prime cuts.

 

x

 

_"Oh, I wish I were an Oscar Meyer weiner..."_

Nate cracked open one eye, wondering briefly what the hell was going on before he remembered Wade’s existence, and relaxed. That just explained _everything_.

_"That is what I truly wish to be!"_

"What time is it?" Nate asked, shifting to relieve his sore back. Hope squirmed and yawned on his lap.

"Dunno!" Wade answered cheerfully. "But I cooked breakfast, so dig in."

"Breakfast?" Hope repeated, touching her stomach. Just at the word, her belly growled and ached in anticipation. She scrambled off of Nate, finding herself overwhelmed by the smell of roasting meat and the sight of metal spits that were heaped with little cutlets of dripping meat.

"Mr. Wilson!" Hope squealed, stomping her feet. "You got all this?"

"Don't get too excited, Red, it'll probably taste horrible," Wade warned her.

"I'm so hungry, I could eat _anything_ ," Hope exclaimed.

"That's what I like to hear!"

Nathan walked around the area slowly, stretching his muscles and surveying the area. "Where is everyone?"

"They headed south," Wade said. "You know, back the way we came? They're looking for greener pastures. So-to-speak. Eat up, Nate. There's plenty. And, uh, I can get more."

Nate politely waited for Hope to have her fill before he took any for himself. Wade resumed his patrolling, keeping guard and twirling his swords while Nate and Hope ate. Wade seemed pleased with himself, and Nate figured he should be for managing to get this much food. He just hoped he hadn't stolen any from those poor destitute people.

" _'Cause if I were an Oscar Meyer Weinerrrr, then everyone would be in love with meeee!_ "

And why did Wade keep singing that damn song?

x

When they finished eating, Nate gave a little time for them to take a break, and then they continued onward to whatever vague destination Nate had in mind.

They walked all day, stopping for small rations of water from Nathan's canteen. When Hope grew tired, Wade took her up onto his shoulders again and pretended he was a velociraptor. By the time Nathan found a place to settle in for the night, there were two things that he realized. The first was that with Wade's company, they covered more ground than he would have alone. The second was that Hope was _laughing_. True, infectious laughter that carried on even after they’d stopped walking. Nate tried to figure out what had Hope so entertained, and realized that Wade had been trying to explain why dinosaurs had tiny arms.

"That's not scary, Mr. Wilson!"

"It's the teeth! They don't need big arms like Cable. Dinosaurs are the ultimate predators."

"Is that why they're all dead?”

"Wh-” Wade floundered, taken by surprise at her sass. Honestly, Nate wasn't sure where she got it from either. Maybe it was her mother. “Nathan! Tell Hope how fearsome dinosaurs are."

"I'm not getting in the middle of this."

"I'll _prove_ it to you, then," Wade said.

Hope giggled as Wade made dinosaur claws at her. "You're silly, Mr. Wilson."

"You won't be laughing when I _tickle you to death!_ "

Nathan huffed softly, trying to hide a smile while Wade roared and Hope shrieked with uncontrollable laughter. He was worried for a brief moment, but the fight ended when Wade somehow managed to hang Hope upside-down by her ankles.

"No fair!" Hope hiccuped and tried to wiggle while the blood rushed to her head.

"And that's lesson the first," Wade smiled, marching over to Nathan with his captive.

"Lesson?" Hope repeated. She didn't remember being told there would be a lesson. Nate always told her when there was.

"Don't underestimate your opponent, or something like that," Wade explained, gently depositing Hope in Cable's lap.

"He's right," Cable agreed, helping Hope turn herself right-side-up again.

"That's not fair," Hope frowned. "We weren't fighting. You were pretending to be a _dinosaur_."

"And I was pretending to be a pretty ballerina when I kicked Taskmaster's butt the _first_ time!"

Nate had to smile. "Remember our talks about how every soldier has their individual strengths?"

Hope nodded soberly. Nathan always reminded her to use her strengths to her advantage. One of them was being able to hide and sneak around.

"Well, Deadpool specializes in being unpredictable," Nathan explained. "I've seen him best many opponents because they don't take him as a serious threat."

"And then POW!" Wade chimed in, chuckling darkly. "They never see it coming. Check this out." He took a small switchblade from his suit, showing Hope how it opened.

"Small, but deadly," he said. "Like you. If you’re already killing roaches and learning how to fight, I think you should have something to protect yourself. It's sharp, so be careful."

"Can I?" Hope gave Nathan a questioning look, and took the knife reverently, trying to withhold her excitement.

"You can keep it hidden in your sock," Wade explained, "Like this, see? A knife can be essential if you get in a rough spot, not just as a weapon but as a survival tool. I'll show you how to make a fire with it later."

Hope touched the knife, experimenting with closing it and letting it spring open several times. She finally closed the blade and tucked it away in her sock the way Wade had showed her. "Thank you, Mr. Wilson," she said, rushing forward and hugging him.

"Awww, giving weapons to children is just my thing. I’m like Santa, but less creepy. When you're bigger, I'll get you a katana," Wade responded, and then he lifted Hope up into the air the way she liked.

"Bedtime in ten minutes, kids,” Nate said, before they got too rowdy.

"Aw, Dad!" Hope complained.

"Aw, Dad," Wade echoed.

"I mean it," Nathan said. "Settle in. And make sure you're careful with that thing, Hope. It isn’t a toy."

Hope was excited, realizing that Nathan was really going to let her keep Wade's gift.

She went through their bedtime routine, and finally settled into a nook against an outcrop of rock, where Nathan had decided they would camp for the night. She asked Deadpool more about dinosaurs, making him describe all the different types he knew, from ones that flew to the tiny, frilled acid-spitting type from _Jurassic Park_.

Sometime along the point where Wade had segued into talking about the Loch Ness Monster, and then Bigfoot, Hope fell asleep.

"I've been thinking, Wade," Nathan said slowly, long after Wade's babbling had trailed off into an attempt to count the stars in the night sky.

"Thinking about if it's chicken that tastes like everything else?" Wade questioned, turning his head to look at Nate. The larger man was sitting on a small boulder, and Wade was sprawled out on his back, lounging with his hands behind his head.

"Thinking about you," Nathan said.

"Oh," Wade blinked, going quiet as that sank in. He felt his heart jump for some reason, and wondered if he and Nate were finally going to have a sexy moment.

"And Hope," Nathan added.

"Oh," Wade said again.

"When you helped me out with Hope in Alaska, I thought that'd be the last time I saw you," Nathan said.

"Yeah, when you kept thinking I was gonna let you down," Wade reminded him.

Nathan grit his teeth in a bitter smile. "I wasn't sure what your loyalty was priced at those days."

" _Those days_ ,” Wade echoed. “Alaska wasn't that long ago, for me. And I'm pretty sure I'm here and you're not paying me."

"But you are being paid," Nathan reminded him.

"Paid to _kill_ ," Wade said. "Which would involve a lot more stabbing and a lot less dinosaur tickle fights."

"Hm," Nate sounded amused. "You're poking holes in your loyalty argument."

"No, I'm not. I'm being loyal to you, not money. That's the whole point. I was paid to betray you and I didn't, so there."

"Maybe. But you did accept the money."

“‘Cause I had to. Also ‘cause I wanted that money. I was upfront about that from the start,” Wade said, actually sounding a little angry now. “What did you want me to do, reject it on principle? Let them get suspicious and pay some _other_ lowlife to come and kill that girl? Someone who’d actually do it? Over my dead, festering corpse.”

Nate was quiet for a long time. 

"If anything happens to me, I want you to protect Hope.”

"Are you _trying_ to jinx yourself?" Wade asked, sitting upright.

“I’m serious, Wade. Between the two of us, you’re the one who has a better chance of surviving and keeping her safe.”

“Only because I can take a grenade to the face and it’ll grow back. You’re the one who believes in this mission.”

Nate shook his head. “I started this mission holding the belief that Hope should be allowed to choose her own path. But I’ve been training her to be a soldier. You were right when you said that Scott didn’t have this in mind for her. Neither did I. But… I forgot. I’ve spent a long time trying to survive, and forgetting to let Hope _live_. Everyone treats her like a weapon that will either be used for great good, or great evil. Even me. You’re the only one who’s allowed her to be a child.”

Wade stared at him, dumbfounded. “I’m not the nurturing type, Nate. I’ve killed _sea monkeys_.”

“You’re the perfect person, Wade. Bishop doesn’t know about you yet, and I intend to use that to my advantage. I want you to take Hope back with you. Let her be a kid for a while. Maybe that’s exactly what she’s always needed.”

“Say that first part again,” Wade requested.

Nate frowned at him. “Bishop doesn’t know about you?”

“No, the _first_ part.”

“You’re the perfect person.”

“Guh. Okay. I don’t remember what you were trying to talk me into, but I’ll do it.”

"Take Hope back with you," Nathan repeated, even though the words weighed heavily on his heart.

"Right," Wade nodded. "Wait. Neeeegative, Ghost Rider. I can't be the failsafe."

"Why not?"

"Because the little white box with Courier New font is telling me that my time device is probably being tracked. My Marty McFly act is being sponsored by a bunch of rich, child-murdering low-lifes, after all. If I pop back to the present, chances are they’ll be able to find me."

"You think that's true?"

"Nate, Courier New font is serious business," Wade said, tapping the side of his head. "But my yellow box is saying I could probably ditch the gizmo somewhere remote and they'd never find me. But I wouldn't be able to come back. Shut up, both of you."

"Wade," Nathan leaned forward to regain his friend's attention. He pressed his flesh-and-blood hand to Wade's head, as if his touch and will alone could quiet the voices that Wade heard. Wade even relaxed slightly under his hand, as if it really did. But Nathan suspected that even if he could fix Wade's mind, he'd end up ruining a vital part of what made him so amazing. 

"If it gets bad, or if I tell you to go, I want you to take Hope with you,” Nathan said to him. “Don't hesitate.”

x


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hope learns a few tricks.

“You gotta keep your arms straight,” Wade said. “Like this.” 

He lifted his arms into the air with perfect posture, took a slight running start, and did a cartwheel.

Hope lifted her arms and mimicked him, but she was still lacking in experience and flopped over halfway through the trick.

“You gotta keep your _back_ straight, too, Hope! And your legs… That wasn’t even good! I know an old blind lady who can do better cartwheels than that!”

“Mr. Wilson, you’re not very nice,” Hope frowned, but she popped back up to try another.

“It’s true though. You should see old Al go. Look, put your hands like this… and put your legs like this,” he coached, moving her tiny limbs into position. “Don’t do the floppy wrist thing! Pretend like you’re gonna punch some guy in the face. You can’t be all floppy-wristed if you want to punch someone in the _face_ , Hope.”

“I can’t stay up!”

“You aren’t supposed to stay up, you’re supposed to roll,” Wade reminded her. “That was better! Try it faster… OHMIGOSH NATEDIDYOUSEETHATSHEDIDAPERFECTCARTWHEEL!”

Nathan flinched at Wade and Hope’s combined squealing, but managed to pretend he was ignoring them. Sometimes Wade felt more like a child than Hope ever did. But in a way, this was good for her. She'd never had so much fun before.

“Do it again!" Wade cheered. "Oh… that wasn’t…. Well, you’ll get better. And soon you’ll be able to do _this_.” Wade leapt into a back handspring and landed nimbly on his feet.

“Whoa!” Hope marveled at the trick for all of a second, and then squared her feet, ready to try copying it.

“Noooooooo!” Wade grabbed her. “Let’s not do that just yet, unless you’re a little Taskmaster or your mutant ability is to heal a broken neck. Have you even done a handstand before? ‘Kay, come 'ere. I’m gonna lift your legs for you. You gotta balance. Keep your wrists strong. Like you’re punching a guy in the _face_ , Hope!”

Nate was amazed by how often Hope ended up upside-down with Wade around.

“When you can do _this_ on your own, I’ll start teaching you how to do the fancier stuff, like an aerial.”

“What’s that?”

“That’s a cartwheel without using your hands.”

“ _Naathan!_ Mr. Wilson is lying to me again!”

“It’s not a lie!” 

“You’re lying!”

“I am not!” Wade objected, actually sounding a little flustered that she didn’t believe him. “Watch.” Wade let Hope’s legs back down and made sure she was watching while he demonstrated for her.

“You touched the ground.”

“No, I didn’t! Watch, okay?”

"You did!”

“Okay, _that_ time I did by accident, but seriously I’ll show you this time.”

Nathan relaxed while Wade entertained, listening to Hope’s equal amazement and skepticism as she commanded Wade to repeat the feat again and again until she was convinced that it was somehow physically possible. Finally, someone who might actually wear Wade out. They’d both sleep well tonight.

“Show me _slower_ ,” Hope said.

“I can’t _do_ , slower. There’s this thing called gravity. Besides, I don’t want you trying it on your own.”

“But I wanna see one more time. Pleeeease.”

Nate lifted his head to the sound of something traveling over the hardened, sand-covered ground. It was coming towards them from a distance, but approaching quickly.  
“ _Wade_.”

Nate’s warning interrupted Wade in the middle of his trick, making him lose his focus. Wade put his hands down to try to correct himself as he fell, his wrist snapping like a twig.  
“Ah! Ffff…Fudgsicles!”

“Mr. Wilson!” Hope rushed to him, tears pricking at her eyes while Wade cradled his wrist. “I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, kiddo. This is why we usually show off on something soft, like a nice, squishy mat,” Wade groaned. “Or Wolverine’s southern hemispheres.”

“Someone’s heading this way,” Nathan said, his left eye flashing with power as he lifted his guns and put himself in between Hope and whoever was approaching. They could only see a cloud of dust kicked up in the horizon, but it was rapidly closing the distance.

“Maybe the circus is coming to town?” Wade guessed while he stood up.

“Not a risk I’m willing to take right now. We’ve been here long enough. We’re going forward.”

“Ugh, no,” Hope grumbled. “I hate timesliding.”

“Sorry, little one. You know what to do.”

Nate had only briefly explained to Wade about how they would timeslide the next time they had to move. The basic principle was that they all had to be together.  
“You heard the man,” Wade said, lifting Hope with his good arm.

“I might puke all over you,” Hope warned while Wade drew one of his guns with his other hand. His broken wrist was still badly, y’know, _broken_ , but he managed to only grimace and inhale sharply on the outside while yelling and swearing creatively on the inside. The bone would heal quickly enough if he just left it alone, but right now Wade didn’t have the time to be ginger with his injury.

“Geez, take all the surprise out of it, why doncha?” Wade joked, a little breathless. Hope tightened her arms around him. “Hold me, Nate,” Wade said, letting his voice take on a sultry tone. At least he could pretend he was just kidding.

Nathan wrapped his arms around Wade and Hope and activated the timeslide, sending the three of them further into the future.

 

x

 

It was amazing how the world could change sometimes. Entire civilizations could crumble into wasteland, and then spring back to a fresh beginning. As the years rapidly slid by, an oasis had appeared in the desert, and around it grew a city, until they were surrounded by paved streets and stone buildings.

Nathan stopped and slide and released Wade, immediately raising his guns and scanning the area for danger.

"You could have kept your arms around me a little longer,” Wade said. “I wasn’t complaining or nothin’-”

“Hurrrgh!” Hope threw up on Wade’s suit, as promised.

“Eeeew!” Wade made a face, unable to avoid the direct hit with Hope at point blank range in his arms. He briefly considered dropping her. Then the bullets started flying. “Ow! Seriously?!”

_Wade, shelter to your left. Go._

“Nooooo! Get out of my head, Charles!” Wade screamed even as he obeyed Nate’s order. The bullets bit into Wade’s back as he ran, and he heard what he thought was Nate returning fire, but he didn’t stop running and didn’t dare let himself even look back. Now wasn’t the time for reckless heroics. Any other day, Wade would have eagerly dove headlong into battle to help his buddy out, and damn the consequences. But he had a queasy little girl clinging to him for dear life. It didn’t matter if Wade got shot, but her… God, not her. Hope was everything. Nate needed him to be a human shield right now a hell of a lot more than he needed backup. 

He reached the shelter that Nathan had spotted, which was a lot like a bunker, or maybe a collapsed building that was really just a basement with half the roof left. Judging by his rough surroundings, the rest of this city wasn’t in much better shape. It seemed clear that they’d shot a few decades too far, past the peak of civilization and straight into some kind of war-torn downfall. Utopia was _so_ never what it looked like.

Wade cradled Hope to his chest and slid through a windowless opening into the man-made hole in the ground, the rough dirt like claws on his wounded back. As soon as his feet touched the floor, he knew they weren’t alone in the room. Wade let go of Hope and took out the first man with a flying kick to the face, and shot the second one in the leg before the pudgy man could even reach for his weapon.

“Are you okay, Hope?” Wade asked as soon as he caught a breath, ignoring the whimpering man.

“Yes,” Hope answered, rubbing dirt off of her knees.

Wade nodded and drew his attention back to the squatters, or would-be enemies, or whatever they were. The man he shot was still whimpering in pain and fear. “Oh shut up. I’ve been puked on and shot thirty-seven times,“ Wade said. "I’m feeling _more_ than just a little annoyed. But lucky for you, I’m in the presence of a lady. So what do you think, little one? Should we _eat_ them or let them live this time?”

“Cannibalism is wrong, Mr. Wilson.”

“Bah! That’s not what you said yesterday. Fine. It’s your lucky day, punk. She must not be hungry. Take your dirty friend and leave before I change my mind!” Wade fired off random shots while the frightened man dragged his bleeding comrade out of the building.

“I don’t know if you should have shot at him. Nate would say not to waste-”

“Eeeeeew, I just remembered you _puked_ on me!”

“Sorry!”

“EEEEEEEEEEEW!”

“Nathan doesn’t make such a big deal-”

“Shaddup, let me have my moment.” Wade continued to ick while he checked that the little 'bunker’ was secure. He couldn’t hear gunfire outside anymore, which either meant that Nathan had killed all the attackers, or that Nathan was bleeding out in the middle of the street. Or that someone was giving away free tacos and there was a momentary cease fire. Either way, he figured he had a few minutes to hunker down. Goddamn it, what if there _were_ free tacos? If Nate didn’t bring him any, he was the worst not-boyfriend _ever_.

“Don’t look,” Wade muttered, trying to pull the soiled top half of his costume off without removing his mask. He finally succeeded, after much struggling, and tossed the wet shirt away with another disgusted noise. “I need to start carrying wet wipes. All of these pouches, and no wet wipes,” he lamented.

“You’re hurt,” Hope frowned, moving closer to Wade to inspect his wounds. “I have-”

“Aaah, don’t touch. It’s just cancer scars.”

“I meant the bullets,” Hope mumbled.

“Oh.” Wade glanced over his shoulder. “They’ll heal.”

“I can help.” Hope reached into her pocket and pulled out a set of tweezers that Nathan had given to her ages ago, back when they were still on their own and only had each other to rely on. He said that she had nimble fingers. She braced her little hand on Wade’s back, trying to keep him still while she started digging out the bullets.

“Ow!”

“Hold still, Mr. Wilson. It’ll hurt more if you move.”

“Leave'emin, leave'emin!”

“Nathan says the wounds heal better if you take out the metal,” Hope reasoned. Above all, Nate had taught her the importance of first aid and Hope was confident in what she knew and was determined to help Mr. Wilson, no matter how much he fussed. She managed to grip onto a bullet despite Wade’s squirming and yanked it out. “There.” The deep wound closed up rapidly, healing itself before her very eyes. “Whoa, cool!”

“Eugh. Not cool. Ow! Ugh, give a guy a warninNNNGGG! Ah! You’re _enjoying_ this!” Wade continued to complain, as Hope dug in again. He spotted Nathan returning to them. “Naaaaate! She’s sadistic!”

“Calm down, Wade,” Nathan said, placid as ever, and even faintly amused. “She’s a good medic. Let her practice.”

“Errugh. Only… because… it’s actually making the pain go away…” Wade agreed reluctantly. He continued to groan and grimace while Hope pulled each bullet out.

Nate examined their shelter while Hope worked, and then told them he’d be back soon, and pulled himself out of the same hole he and Wade had dropped in through. It was the only entrance in and out, which had its tactical advantages and disadvantages. On the one hand, it made their shelter easier to guard against an attack. On the other hand, it limited their possible escape options. Thankfully, they also had _time_ on their side. Like, literally. Because of the whole time traveling thing.

Wade had no clue what Nate was up to, whether he was guarding just outside their shelter or scouting further away, but he knew he could protect Hope in here.

Meanwhile, Hope had him in agony.

“You know, back in my day, this isn't how we played Operation! Aah! You aren't supposed to touch the sides!”

 

x

 

Hope learned to be extra gentle with Wade. He was either a lot more sensitive than Nate, or a lot more vocal, but towards the end, she was able to get to a bullet with minimal pain, and pull it out quickly. She even learned how to dig a bullet out of a scabbed-over wound. When she was finally done, she wiped the blood from her hands onto her pants, and put away her tweezers.

“Do you have any Hello Kitty band aids?” Wade asked her,quiet and miserable, his voice raspy from yelling. He was still sitting on the dirt floor, too wiped to bother moving just yet.

“I don't think so,” Hope said. She took after her dad well and was already able to take the weird stuff Wade said in stride.

“Not even a sticker or a lollipop for being a good boy?” Wade sniffed. “Your bedside manner is worse than your surgical skills, doc.”

“I'm sorry it hurt, Mr. Wilson, but you’ll feel better soon, I promise!” Hope said, wrapping her arms around his neck and planting a big, sincere kiss on his cheek that made his heart feel like it'd been shot.

They both turned their heads to the entrance as Nate slid back inside. “Okay,” Wade brightened, taking the opportunity while Hope was distracted to plant a kiss on the top of her head and then ruffle her hair while she shrieked. “That earned you a five star Yelp review.”

“I take it the surgery was a success,” Nate commented.

Hope ran over to see him. “He’s really good at healing,” Hope said while Wade procured a new shirt, apparently from one of his little pouches.

“He is,” Nathan agreed, crouching down. “And I have a surprise for you both.” 

Wade’s head turned. “Tacos?”

“Close.” Nate revealed an armful of strange fruits and vegetables, letting them roll onto the floor.  
“You’re the best boyfriend ever,” Wade blurted out.

“Wow!” Hope fell to her knees, picking up different pieces of fruit/vegetables and staring at them. “What are they? What do they taste like? Why is this one prickly?”

“We’ll have to find out,” Nathan responded, looking up at Wade, who had come to join them. The younger man settled on the floor cross-legged and grabbed one of the fruit, tossing it around. “I've determined that they aren’t poisonous, and the locals harvest them fresh to eat, but there’s no guarantee.”

“This reminds me of a cross between a pineapple and a peeled grape,” Wade commented, squeezing the fruit like a rubber ducky. “Well, I’ll be the guinea pig.” He pulled his mask up to his nose and took a bite out of the strangely textured fruit. It was very juicy, and that juice was apparently very, very purple in color. “Eeew!”

“Does it taste bad?” Hope asked.

“No, it got on me,” Wade complained, fingering his new shirt that was now stained. Again. He sighed and continued to eat the fruit anyway, comforting himself that at least it wasn’t vomit.

“It’s getting on your mask, too,” Hope bit her lip. “Why don’t you take it off to eat, Mr. Wilson?”

“'Cause if I do, you’ll puke again,” Wade retorted. “Seriously, I look like old roadkill hit by a flame thrower under here. But if these fruit turn out to be poisonous and we need to induce vomiting, give me a shout.”

Hope pursed her lips together, carefully picking at the green fruit in her hands. She glanced at Nathan, who silently began slicing each piece of fruit into thirds so they could all share. 

“Nathan and I don’t care, Mr. Wilson,” she said quietly. Hope studied Wade for a moment, and then picked up one of the pieces of fruit and offered it to him.

x


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is short but it's sort of meant to be Hope's chapter.
> 
> Also, too much cuteness at once can be fatal, so it's necessary to pace oneself.
> 
> Enjoy :)

This was how Nathan saw the new world they’d found: 

It was an advanced but troubled civilization full of complex political conflict that was better off avoided. Although the surface was hostile, they had a safe place to hide; Wade had discovered an old network of tunnels beneath the city that probably hadn't been used in hundreds of years. The technology in this age was sophisticated, and Nate believed that if he kept searching, perhaps he could find the right components needed to fix the time mechanism in his arm so they could finally travel backwards in time and be able to go home again. In the meantime, he didn't feel too much moral conflict about skimming food from supplies that were being shipped to the central government building. The politicians were corrupt totalitarians, and the current agricultural harvests were over-abundant with crops that were being unfairly rationed to the lower class. If Nathan had also happened to help a revolt overturn one of these shipments, allowing the rebels to gather food for their families, then that was just a happy coincidence.

How Wade saw the new world: 

It had food. Lots of food. Food that actually tasted good. But aside from that, it was boring, because Nate refused to let him go play outside with the other kids and their cool guns.

Even though they had to stay underground, it was a blessing to be right underneath a city. The tunnels were dark at first, and that made Wade and Hope both pretty miserable, but Nathan remedied the situation quickly. He managed to steal or create all the lights they needed to illuminate the stretch of tunnels that they made into their unconventional home. The lights ran off of battery packs that could be recharged in sunlight during the day. The current technology made it so the batteries lasted for days and took less than an hour to recharge. Wade had helped hang them with glee, making a canopy of lights above their bed while singing Christmas carols.

Nathan scouted for materials and food over the next few weeks, always leaving Wade behind with Hope. He brought back exotic fruits and vegetables, as well as spices to garnish up the plump rats that Wade killed in abundance.

“We were in a desert before,” Hope said one night after they’d eaten dinner. “How did everything change so much? We could barely find _any_ rats and now we have too many to eat!”

"Nature returned," Nathan explained. "The landscape changed over time. The strong species survived and returned. They were able to adapt to their new environment."

"But there was nothing here before. Except dirt."

"That's just part of nature's cycle. Sometimes a forest burns to the ground. Even though it seems like there's nothing left, and it looks devastating, it's still a healthy part of nature's cycle. Clearing the land makes room for regrowth. Nature always comes back."

"But what if it _doesn't_?" Hope asked again, doubtful. “Every time we go forward, it’s a little worse. What if the next time we slide it gets real bad again and nature doesn’t come back?”

"Then the land goes barren," Wade said. "The soil erodes, the little mice die, the big animals start eating each other and then die, the humans eventually run out of twinkies and starve to death, society crumbles, and the stash of nuclear warheads in Switzerland detonate, cracking the earth in half and destabilizing the entire solar system until all the planets crash into the sun. And only Pluto will be left because they say it's not a planet anymore, but look who got the last laugh? All because those stupid little plants wouldn't grow back. But you know what? This planet is _lousy_ with plants. Plants will grow between your toes if you let them. So I'm pretty sure all that won't happen until all of the seas are boiled up. Which as far as _you're_ concerned, little miss, will never ever, ever, ever, ever, ever, ever happen. 'Cause Daddy Nate just won't let it."

Wade wrapped Hope in his arms, dragging her down onto the soft bed that they all shared. It was enormous - made out of blankets, cushions, pillows, and any sort of soft stuff or cloth that Nate could swipe from the city above without it being missed. All of it was conglomerated into a fluffy pile that Wade referred to as their 'nest'.

The big bed was Wade and Hope's favorite part of their underground home, and even though Nathan never said it out loud, Hope thought he liked it too because he always smiled when it was time to go to sleep and let her snuggle between them. One of the best parts about the bed besides how comfy it was, was that now they all slept side by side and they got to hug each other, and Hope _loved_ it when Wade hugged her. She used to feel safe when Nate held her in his arms. Now she felt double safe when Wade held her, because Nate could hold both of them at the same time because his arms were big enough. And Wade loved to hug Hope, especially when he was asleep. It was like he couldn't help it.

That was how they settled in that night, with Wade's arm locked around Hope's waist, warm and snug like a blanket. Nathan's arm was stretched out to cradle Wade's shoulders, and in a way hugging Hope at the same time because she was squished in between them so tightly.

Hope heard Wade distinctly mumble something about goldfish in his sleep. Unable to turn around, she looked up at Nate questioningly, pleased to find an equally confused expression on his face. They shared a silent giggle and Nate reached out to rub Wade's shoulder until the sleep-talking stopped.

Wade was always talking in his sleep, and neither Summers ever understood what he was dreaming about. He said silly things that made them laugh. Sometimes he said Hope's name, but mostly he said Nathan's name. And Nathan would get a goofy look on his face that reminded her of an earlier time, a time when they had settled down and things were safe and good for so long that they both almost felt like they'd found the real meaning of 'Home'.

"Nathan?" Hope whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Remember when we lived in New Liberty and we met Mommy?"

"I do," Nathan answered, nodding solemnly.

"Remember when you said that I needed to have a mom, and you asked me if it was okay if you married Mommy and I said it was 'cause we both liked her and she made us happy?"

Nathan was silent, waiting for Hope to speak.

"You don't have to ask this time," Hope said. "I like Mr. Wilson a lot, and you should marry him because I know you like him too and I want him to stay with us."

Nathan blinked slowly and then looked at Wade, sleeping literally only an arm's length away. He squeezed Wade's shoulder under his hand, and then leaned down and kissed the top of Hope's head.

"Go to sleep, little one."


	6. Chapter 6

"You wanna play dinosaurs?" Wade asked, making his hands into claws and tickling Hope until she slumped over on the floor, her squeals quieting into hiccups.

"I'm – _hic!_ – really tired," Hope admitted, a soft whine in her voice. "Maybe you can be a brontosaurus?"

Only when Hope mentioned she was tired did Nate realize how long the day had been. Wade and Hope had been up and running around as soon as they were out of bed, which was around seven a.m. by Nate's internal clock. He'd made a trip to the surface, hunting for more useful things and, as always, food. He'd brought back some sort of technology, a component to a machine similar to a computer. It was complex enough that he had hope, as he started to deconstruct it, that it would contain some parts he could use to fix his time mechanism.

While Nate worked, Wade told jokes to Hope, explained the plot of a Star Trek episode to her at length, and helped her practice handstands, somersaults, splits, a crab walk, how to roll her tongue, and the Vulcan salute, all of which, he insisted, was very very important for her to know.

At the end of it all, Nate realized that he had managed to do very little to disassemble the bit of tech he'd been working on all day. It was far too primitive to take that long, even working manually instead of using telekinesis. When he tried to remember what had happened to all that lost time, his mind perfectly recalled the soothing tones of Wade's voice that had played through his head all day long.

The bits of metal and microchips, Nate finally admitted to himself, were as useless now as he'd suspected they'd be when he first started the task hours ago. It was all just something to do to keep his hands busy while Wade entertained Hope with his tricks and bits of trivia.

Wade hadn't been as easy to be around when he moved into Providence. Then again, on Providence Nate had so many responsibilities to keep track of, and Wade hadn't exactly been making friends, so they hadn't spent much time with each other. Part of him always felt a little guilty that he hadn’t been able to give Wade as much attention as he clearly needed. But Wade was an adult and made his own decisions, his own mistakes. Nate couldn’t be held responsible for how that ended, no matter how much he regretted it. No matter how much Nate _missed_ him. Wade could be a great ally. But he could also be so damn unpredictable. That was why he was hesitant to let Wade walk back into his life.

If anyone had told Nate that Deadpool had been sent to find them, he probably would’ve tried to avoid meeting up with him. In fact, he was hesitant for a while, but he knew Wade well enough to know that Wade was more likely to stab Nate in the back (literally) and run off to raise Hope himself than ever lay a pinky finger on the girl, or let anyone _else_ hurt her for that matter. It was a small leap of faith to put his trust in Wade again. But he had to admit that things were actually better now. Having someone else around to help watch over Hope was a huge relief. 

He would’ve expected Wade to go stir crazy within the first ten minutes of being here, but most of the time Wade and Hope were too busy running circles around each other. Hope was like a missing piece that Wade had needed all along. She just complemented the mercenary so well, keeping him busy and providing him with the eager audience that he craved.

Before Wade showed up, Nate had to admit that he was wearing himself thin. It had been getting harder for them to find food, or handle the next attack, or even find much to smile about. Now it was hard to believe that things had been so close to getting really bad. Now Hope was on Wade's back, her little arms locked around his neck, legs around his waist, while he made noises that were apparently supposed to be a brontosaurus.

In a way, Nate realized, Wade was also like a missing piece, finally coming into place. Maybe before just wasn’t the right timing for either of them, but that was years ago and things had changed. Now they both had Hope, and suddenly everything just _fit_.

That was the moment, perhaps, that Nate consciously decided that he didn't want Wade to ever leave his life again.

x

By dinner time, Hope was yawning and nearly falling asleep where she sat.

"I think it's time for bed, little girl," Nathan suggested with a gentle smile. "Go get settled in."

"You're not coming?" Hope asked as she stood, rubbing her eyes.

"Not yet," Nathan said before Wade could interject. "I need Wade's help to fix some of the lights. But I'll tuck you in."

Hope looked a little disappointed, but was too tired to argue. "Okay," she relented, and settled for Nate giving her a kiss goodnight and reassuring her that they wouldn't be far away.

"Night, tater tot," Wade said, and followed Nathan's lead. "Which lights are all winky-wonky?" he asked, swinging his arms restlessly.

"Over here." Nathan continued walking. Wade trailed behind him, craning his neck to stare up at the trail of lights that dangled over their heads. Nate stopped when they had turned down a different tunnel, a reasonable distance away from the ‘nest’.

"Cool. We can be manly men and _fix_ things," Wade said. He rose up on his tiptoes, trying to inspect the lights they'd strung from old piping. "Erm, what's the problem? They must not be light-y enough."

"There's nothing wrong with them," Nathan said, only giving the lights a brief glance. "I wanted to talk to you."

"Oh. Ya could've just said so."

Nathan looked sheepish. "I didn't want Hope to worry."

"Worry about what?"

"Nothing," Nate said.

Wade gave Nate a curious expression. "Why'd you bring me out here to talk about nothing, Nate? Is it like a nothing-nothing or like a nothing that's a something that makes-"

Nate moved closer, narrowing the gap between him and Wade until the slighter man was pressed up against the wall to try to keep any distance between them.

"Um, Nate? Personal space... didn't they teach you as a kid? It's very rude to... guh." Wade made a small noise and fell quiet, suddenly very focused on the fact that Nate's techno-organic hand was on his hip, and Nate was so close that he could feel the other man breathing and could write a sonnet describing the shade of his eyes. A greyish blue in this light, like galena.

"Galena?" Nate repeated, curious. “The mineral?”

"Telepathy is cheating," Wade accused.

Nate laughed. "I can't read you, Wade. But thinking out loud makes up for it."

That was the truth. Wade's constantly regenerating brain cells made it hard for Nate to read anything but the occasional surface thought. Probably because Wade's mind was constantly in turmoil, like ADHD in hyperdrive. The verbal cues were there, but Nate had to admit that he was embarrassingly bad at reading body language or other subtleties without his telepathy. So unlike with anything else he'd done before in his life, Nate was flying blind when he peeled Wade's mask up and kissed him.

Nate pressed his mouth firmly against Wade’s, giving into what was admittedly years of wanting. After a second, he eased off, letting his lips linger on Wade’s for a few moments. He could hear the mercenary's heart racing faster than usual, but damn it, he really couldn't read body language at all and Wade had frozen up. He had to break away and try to gauge a reaction.

"Wuh," was the noise that came out of Wade's mouth when the fog lifted in his head. "I think I've developed a spontaneous brain tumor, 'cause I just hallucinated that you were-"

Nate snickered and kissed him again, this time with less worry, licking over Wade's lips and then sweeping into his mouth and finding Wade's tongue with his own. Unintelligible noises caught in Wade's throat, but they all sounded good; hungry and needy and whining. Wade's hands came alive, one wrapping around Nate's neck to slide into his hair and one clutching at his shoulder. 

Nate groaned and drove forward, pushing Wade too hard against the wall and knocking the wind out of him. Apologetic, Nate reeled himself back and left Wade's mouth to let him catch his breath, but found equally appealing opportunities kissing his neck, mouthing and biting at the skin.

Wade was panting, his back arching to give Nate easier access to anywhere he wanted to kiss, or touch. Small noises kept spilling from his mouth, his hands spasmodically clinging to whatever bit of Nate that he could hold onto, and that was finally body language that Nate could read.

"You've been – hngh – reading my fuzzy pink diary," Wade accused, his voice quivering.

Nate lifted his head enough to nuzzle against Wade's cheek. "I want you to stay with me."

"Who said I was leaving?" Wade mumbled, confused. “I’m like herpes, Nate. You never really can get rid of me.”

"I just... I realized that the better days of my life are with you in them," Nate said, a little nervous to finally lay himself on the line. "I'd like to say I'm asking you to stick around for Hope's sake... but I'm asking for entirely selfish reasons," he added with a little self-depreciating smile.

Wade made a big huffing noise as he took a breath, tipping his head back and scratching the top of his mask while Nate's words tumbled around in his head. "So you're asking me if I wanna go steady? Do I get to wear your letterman jacket? Will we go all the way on prom night?"

Nate looked thoughtful for a moment, and then rummaged in his pockets for something that had been waiting for a long time to have meaning again. He found it, and took Wade's left hand, sliding the gold band over his finger. It wasn't quite a fit, but the ring finally found a new home on Wade's thumb. A nontraditional spot, but nothing between them was traditional, after all.

"Hmm," Wade twisted the band thoughtfully. "Some guys just go for a branding iron when they try to mark their property, you know."

"It's not a mark," Nate said. "Unless you want it to be. Think of it as... a promise."

"A promise to what?"

Nate appeared to consider the answer to this, but then just smiled cryptically at Wade and began to walk back.

"Nate? A promise to what?" Wade pestered, following him. "A promise to _what?_ " He had to lower his voice to a whisper when they returned to the nest. "Nate? I'm not good at the fill-in-the-blanks thingy. My mind... _wanders_. Nate. You promise to make me tacos?"

"Tacos, yes," Nate responded softly, amused, as he got into bed. Hope was so tired that when the nest shifted under his weight, she only made a tiny noise but didn't wake up.

"Awesome. Wait, no, that wasn't what I wanted to spend my wish on."

"It's not a wish, Wade," Nathan said patiently, folding his arms behind his head.

Wade relented and crawled onto the bed, wiggling over until he was tucked against Hope’s other side. "Promise to buy me a flat-screen TV?" he whispered.

Nate turned his head to look at Wade, and lowered one of his arms, reaching across the space between them. Wade had forgotten to pull his mask back down, and Nate brushed the pad of his thumb across Wade's bottom lip, tracing the scarred texture.

"Oh," Wade said. "That kind of promise."


End file.
